


Worth My While

by copper_wasp



Category: Uncharted (Video Games)
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, French Kissing, Kissing, One Shot, Pre-Panama Sam, Reader-Insert, Semi-Public Sex, Twenty-Something Sam, some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-22
Updated: 2019-04-22
Packaged: 2020-01-23 19:09:31
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18555988
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/copper_wasp/pseuds/copper_wasp
Summary: You didn’t plan on being held at gunpoint tonight, but here you were. Good thing Mr. Drake was looking out for you.





	Worth My While

**Author's Note:**

> My first darling Sammy fic! 
> 
> This ended up going in a different direction than I planned, but I am still mostly happy with it 😊
> 
> Enjoy!

“Don’t move, or I will splatter those pretty brains of yours all over that bookcase,” a voice said near your ear. You felt the unmistakable cold metal of the barrel of a gun being pressed to the back of your head. More than likely the gun was silenced, meaning you’d be dead and the assailant would be miles away before anyone even found your body.

You raised your arms in surrender, trying your best to keep your breathing steady. A single bead of nervous sweat dripped down your neck, absorbing into the collar of the ridiculous dress you were wearing. For fuck’s sake, all you wanted was a single minute of alone time, and then this asshole just _had_ to show up.

“Tell me where it is,” the voice demanded, pushing the gun harder into the back of your skull.

“Tell you where what is?” you asked, flexing your fingers nervously.

“Don’t play dumb with me, Miss [L/N]. The ring. Where is it? It conveniently disappeared from the auction, and I know you have it somewhere.”

“Why don’t you tell me _your_ name, sweet pea, since you seem to know me pretty well?”

“Stop trying to be cute and tell me where it is.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, you fucking buffoon, I am only here because my parents are trying to marry me off to a fucking trust-fund man baby,” you said, turning your head slightly to try to get a look at your assailant. He grabbed at your neck with a gloved hand, forcing you to remain looking forward. The silenced barrel of the gun was digging into your scalp painfully, but the pain was still more bearable than a bullet. “I don’t run the company yet, they still tell me next to nothing about these fucking events. Maybe they got an offer before bidding started and it’s already being shoved onto some mistress’s finger?”

You were stalling, trying to buy some time before the man got bored and offed you for being useless. You were trying to calculate the likelihood of your heeled foot being able to kick the assailant in the balls before he pulled the trigger when you heard a sharp crack, followed by a thump. The pressure was gone from the back of your head, but you remained stock-still, eyes darting from side to side.

“You okay?” your heard another voice ask. You didn’t respond, still frozen in place. “It’s all right, you can move.”

Slowly, you turned around, hands still aloft in surrender. Your original assailant was in a crumpled heap on the floor, a small pool of blood gathering beneath a nasty looking head wound. The gun had skittered a few feet away, and you glanced at it briefly, but the second man made no move to retrieve it. The new voice was standing a foot away from the body, holding a small sculpted bust. This man was tall and very handsome, dressed impeccably in a black tuxedo, his longish brown hair swept back off his face. Light stubble dusted his nicely shaped jaw, a few laughter lines already gaining prominence on his cheeks.

“Is that...Lincoln?” you asked, gesturing to the object in his hands.

“Oh, uh...yeah. Honest Abe it is,” he replied, handing it to you. You took it gingerly, avoiding touching the large red spot on Abe’s face.

“You aren’t going to hold me at gunpoint too, are you? Not that I’m not used to it by now,” you mumbled, looking back down at your first assailant.

“Not my style,” the second man replied, smoothing down his jacket.

“Can I ask how you happened to stumble upon this lovely scene?”

“I was looking for my exit, and you and Mr. Zero-Spatial-Awareness just happened to be here,” he said, stepping over said man and feeling around the edge of the bookcase. You heard a soft click, and the case swung open, revealing a narrow set of circular stairs leading downwards.

“Is that a fucking secret door?” you wondered aloud, trying to peer down into the darkness.

“I’d love to stay and chat, but my ride’s waiting,” he said, stepping onto the landing of the staircase.

“W-wait!” you said, thumb accidentally smearing into the blood on the statue. “Thanks, uh, thank you for actually saving my life, Mr...?”

He didn’t answer right away, instead studying your face for a few moments. You looked into his hazel eyes, trying to discern what he was searching for in them. “Drake. Sam.”

“Thank you, Mr. Drake. I’m-“

“No need, I know _exactly_ who you are, doll,” he said, cutting you off. “See ya around,” he added, waving at you, showing off a hideous ruby ring crammed onto his pinky. Your mouth dropped open, but he pulled the bookcase door closed with a grin before you could get any more words out.

“Sam Drake...you fucking prick,” you mumbled to yourself, turning Abe over in your hand. You glanced down at the body on the tiled floor once again, a shiver running through you. “Well, Mr. President, let’s go explain this away.”

* * *

The next time you met Mr. Drake, you were somehow even less prepared. You saw him from across the room, as you turned away from the bar. Smiling to yourself, you calmly walked over to him, conversing with another man with an unmistakable mustache.

“Well, look what the cat dragged in - nice to see you again, Mr. Sullivan,” you said, placing your glass of wine down on the table they were leaning on, purposefully ignoring Sam. Sully looked at you for a moment before the realization hit. His eyes widened a little as he took you in; it had been more than a couple years since you had last met.

“Well hello there, Miss [L/N],” he held his hand out for yours, gently kissing the top of it. “You’ve sure grown up,” he commented with a smile.

“That I have,” you replied, taking a small sip of your wine, “but you don’t look a day over 70.”

He laughed, clutching at his chest in mock offense. “Low blow, sweetheart.” You chanced a look over to Sam, who was watching your interaction with raised eyebrows. He met your eyes and a small smile played on his lips. “Oh, uh, this is my associate, Sam-“

“No need,” you interrupted, eyes still locked with Sam’s, “I know _exactly_ who he is.” You held out your hand to him, but instead of shaking it, he grasped it lightly with his, kissing the top of it as Sully had, his eyes never leaving your face. Warmth shot up your arm from where his lips touched your skin, and you swallowed hard. Composing yourself by flashing a brief smile at him, you turned back to look at Sully. Sam released your hand, but not before running the pad of his thumb over your knuckles.

“I go way back with [Y/N]’s family,” Sully said to Sam. “They run a property management company that puts together all these fancy soirées. We used to be on, er, more friendly terms.”

“My parents used to be on more friendly terms with a lot of people,” you said, gently swirling the wine in your glass. “But they’re pretty horrible, so don’t feel bad.” Draining your glass, you motioned to the bar. “I’m going to grab another, please enjoy the party, and try not to do anything too illegal, gentlemen.” You nearly whispered the last part, looking right at Sam.

You walked away, clutching onto your wine glass, when you felt a warm hand on your lower back.

“Walk with me, would you?” Sam asked, gently steering you towards the door leading outside onto the rear deck. You glanced over your shoulder at Sully, who shrugged, raising a glass of whiskey to his lips. Sam grabbed your empty wine glass, placing it on the tray of a passing waiter before opening the door leading outside. Closing it behind you, he walked with you over to the deck’s railing.

“I need a favor,” he said, turning to face you.

“A favor?” you repeated, confused.

“Yeah, I figure you owe me for that whole saving your life deal last time.”

“I’m pretty sure me not telling my parents you stole an expensive, yet tacky, ring from the auction negates any sort of favor I may have owed,” you scoffed, smoothing your hands over your hair.

“Please? I’ll make it worth your while, promise.”

“What is it that you need, Mr. Drake?” you asked, looking him over. He wasn’t quite as formally dressed this time, just wearing slacks, a white dress shirt and a suit jacket, no tie, the top couple buttons at his collar open. You desperately wanted to press your lips there, darting your tongue out just enough to taste the salt on his skin. _Whoa,_ you said to yourself, _where the hell did that come from?_

He waited to speak again until you looked back up at his face. A smirk was playing on his lips, like he could read your mind and clearly heard that lascivious thought that had just popped unbidden into your head.

“I need to get into the basement of this place - you’ve got a key, don’t you?”

“The basement? What’s down there to steal?” you asked, narrowing your eyes a bit.

“Nothing, this time. Just here to gather some information.”

“And that information is in the basement?” He nodded. You could feel your resolve crumbling, especially when he gazed at you with those gorgeous hazel eyes, sparkling in the dim light of the outside lights.

You groaned, leaning on your hands on the railing. “Fine, I’m sure I can manage to procure a key,” you said, and you felt him cover your hand with his, squeezing a little.

“Thanks, doll, you’re a lifesaver,” he said.

“Yeah, yeah - I’ll come grab you once I have it.”

  
A bit of stealth later, the key to the basement sat in the pocket of the cropped dress pants you had on, and you walked over to Sam and Sully, talking with their heads bowed.

“I’ve got it,” you said, sidling up next to Sam.

“You’re amazing,” he commented, downing the last of his beer.

“Was this your idea, Sullivan?” you asked, leaning on the table.

He raised his hands in surrender, “No way, this was all Sam. You should know I’m not that subtle,” he said.

“All right, let’s go, shall we?” Sam asked, holding his arm out for you to take. You slid your arm in his, starting to walk towards the hallway leading to the basement. You made whispered small talk with Sam as you walked, making sure that none of the guests were looking too closely at the two of you, navigating the rooms until you were just one hallway away from the door leading to the basement.

After waiting for a guard to pass, you quickly scurried down the hallway, the door in your sights. You were just about to put the key in the lock when you heard voices and footsteps from the intersecting corridor.

“Shit,” you mumbled, trying to think of a way to explain your presence here. No one would look twice at you, but Sam was another story. The voices were getting closer, and there was nowhere to hide. You glanced up at him, looking cool as a cucumber, not worried in the slightest. He grabbed onto the key, quickly stowing it in his pocket, before pulling on your hand to draw you into his grasp. One hand moved to your waist, the other grasped the back of your neck. “What are you...?” you began, but were silenced as he pressed his lips to yours, kissing you gently.

Warmth immediately spread over your face from where his lips met yours, and your hands quickly moved of their own accord, gripping tightly onto his shoulders. He angled your head to press more forcefully against you, and you couldn’t help the small moan that escaped. You felt him smile, opening his mouth to press his tongue to the seam of your lips. Shocked at his gall, they parted of their own accord, and his tongue touched yours. A shock exploded where they met, and you eagerly slid your tongue against his, tasting the beer he drank earlier in the night. Your hands moved up to his neck, fingers toying with the ends of his hair. His grip on your waist tightened, still kissing you eagerly. You vaguely heard the footsteps and voices stop abruptly, but Sam kept kissing you.

“Hey, you two, you shouldn’t be here,” one of the guards said, and Sam reluctantly broke apart from you, looking over your shoulder at them.

“Sorry, fellas, we were just looking for...somewhere private, you know? We’ll clear out in a minute,” Sam said, his hand rubbing reassuringly on your back. You were glad he was doing the talking, because you weren’t sure you could form words at the moment.

The guard made a noise in assent, and you heard them continue walking. Sam kissed your cheek softly, digging the basement key out of his pocket.

“All right, let’s go,” he said, pulling you through the door and pulling it closed behind you and flicking the lock. You stumbled down the stairs a little, but he caught you, helping you down the rest of the way. He looked at your confused face at the bottom of the stairs, grinning.

“Come on, doll, no one likes to watch two people sucking face,” he explained, glancing around the basement.

“Did you have to use your tongue?” you asked, adjusting your blouse.

“No, I just wanted to,” he replied, wagging his eyebrows at you. You groaned, checking your watch.

“Well, we’re here, get what you need so we can get out,” you said, sinking into a leather sofa in the middle of the room. The room was sumptuously decorated, high pile rug spread across the floor and built in bookcases housing tons of old volumes. Sam busied himself there, searching for the right book. He pulled out a camera to take some photos, making cute little noises with each new piece of information he uncovered.

About ten minutes later, Sam came over to you. “I’ve got all I need,” he said, making for the stairs.

“Ok, you leave first, and I’ll follow you a few minutes later,” you said, standing. A wicked idea popped into your head. Mr. Drake deserved a little payback. “Oh, and Sam?”

He turned back to face you, and you quickly closed the distance between the two of you. You looked in his eyes for a moment, seeing little flecks of green in the amber. Steeling your courage, you pushed your lips against his, linking your arms around his shoulders. He tensed for a brief moment, before melting against you, his hands finding your hips, pulling you flush against him. You licked at his bottom lip, and soon felt his tongue meet yours once again. You wanted to fight against him, take control of the kiss, but it just felt too good the way he was licking into your mouth, claiming it with his tongue. You groaned in pleasure, threading your fingers into his hair and pulling gently, and he quickly broke apart from you, breathing rapidly.

“Sorry babe,” he said, running a hand through his hair, “we were about to have an, uh, uncomfortable situation for me if we kept going there...” he trailed off, swallowing hard, and your eyes widened in recognition, mouth forming into an “o.” You smirked, giving another sharp tug to his locks. He groaned, looking at you hungrily for a long moment, before slamming his mouth against yours once again. His hands felt like they were everywhere at once, caressing your back, gripping at your hips, squeezing your ass. “You’re playing with fire,” he growled against your mouth, claiming it in another bruising kiss.

You gave as good as you got, biting and sucking and licking at his mouth and neck, pushing aside his shirt to suck a bruise at his collarbone. You felt his hands push your jacket off of your shoulders and you let it fall to the ground. He practically ripped his off, letting you start working on the buttons of his dress shirt. His hands slid under the hem of your blouse, mouth busying itself on your neck, sucking the skin into his mouth and biting down, then soothing over the spot with his tongue. Once you reached the last button, you went to push the shirt off of his chest, but his hands on your wrists stopped you.

“Are you sure about this?” he asked, looking right in your eyes.

You smiled, pushing on your toes to kiss him gently. “Yes,” you replied, pulling your wrists free from his grip and pushing the stiff cotton shirt off of him, letting it fall to the floor. You drug your hands down his torso, feeling him tense his muscles as you went down. He was fit, but not too bulky, the slightest definition of his abs making your mouth water. He pulled up on your blouse, and you rose your arms to allow him to yank it over your head. You pressed your lips to his again with a needy whine as he deftly undid the clasp of your bra, quickly removing the offending garment. His hands immediately went to your breasts, making you keen as he rolled your nipples between his fingers, placing sloppy kisses on your sternum and the tops of your breasts.

Your hands went to his pants, quickly undoing the button and zipper and pushing them down over his hips. You glanced down to see his erection straining in his boxers, quickly pressing your hand against it. He let out a soft hiss at the contact, moving quickly to divest you of your pants as well. You moved back to the sofa, pulling on his arms to follow you, and you pushed him gently to sit down on it. He looked you up and down, as you teasingly pulled down your panties, slowly baring yourself to him completely.

“Ho...ly...shit...” he breathed, eyes roving over your naked skin.

“Those,” you pointed to his boxers, “need to come off,” you said, and he removed them in record time. His cock stood up proudly at you, thick and flushed, and you felt a rush of desire between your legs, slick moistening your lower lips. You moved to straddle him, and felt his hands land on your hips, rubbing your front against his length, a lewd groan issuing from his lips.

You leaned in, capturing his mouth as he grabbed handfuls of your ass, squeezing and rocking your body against his, prolonging the torture before he was inside you. You felt his cock rub over your clit, and you bucked your hips into him, moaning into his mouth. If you weren’t already soaked, you would be now.

“Fuck,” Sam cursed as you nibbled at his neck, “I need you, now,” he practically begged, starting to lift your hips off his lap. You reached down and grabbed onto his length, lining it up with your dripping entrance. You cried out as you first began to sink down onto him, his cock completely stretching and filling you. Sam pressed his hands to your lower back, rubbing soothing circles as he waited for you to get used to him. Once you were flush against him, you leaned your forehead against his, nerve endings already firing. He kissed you sweetly, encouraging you to weave your fingers into his hair. You did, giving a gentle tug and he sucked in a breath, his thighs tensing and cock shifting just the slightest bit inside you.

“Oh, Sam,” you breathed, starting to move your hips. He was so tight inside you, every little shift made you moan and you clung desperately to him. Pulling you against his chest, Sam moved perfectly with you, already in sync. His hands were on your hips, moving them in time with his thrusts. You were rapidly coming undone, and from the look of it, Sam wasn’t faring much better. His eyes were closed, mouth parted, groaning with every move. You kissed him briefly, and he opened those honey-colored eyes with effort to gaze into yours. You felt one of his hands move down to your clit, thumb stroking with vigor. You moaned loudly, clinging to him, your fingers scratching at his scalp.

“Sam...” you said, barely above a whisper, your climax washing beautifully over you. Sam didn’t stop thrusting or rubbing at your bundle of nerves, drawing out your orgasm as long as he could. Your cunt clenched around him, and Sam moaned your name, continuing to fuck you hard. His breathing was getting more rapid, his own orgasm on the horizon; you grasped at his hair, tugging hard, and he groaned, painting your insides with his release. His thrusting slowed, drawing you close to his chest once again, pressing sweet, soft kisses to your cheeks and jaw. You finally came down from your orgasm, his cock still inside, little aftershocks still coursing through your body.

You looked down at him, heart still beating out of your chest. He let his head loll back against the sofa, a look of pure fucking ecstasy on his face. You smiled at him, dragging the back of your hand down his cheek. He looked at you with half lidded eyes, lips turning up into a small, breathless smile.

“I can’t believe I just had sex in the basement of a client’s house, with fifty people on the floor above me,” you said, chuckling darkly.

“Yeah, I had a great time too,” Sam replied, playfully slapping your rear.

With monumental effort, you pushed yourself off of Sam’s lap, rubbing at your stiff muscles. Dressing quickly, you smoothed your jacket down over your front, trying to look as presentable as possible. You walked over to Sam, slapping his hands away to finish buttoning up his dress shirt.

“How do I look?” you asked, holding your arms at your sides. “Acceptable?”

“Stunning,” he said, pulling you in for a kiss. You blushed, tapping your index finger on his nose.

“Thank you, but I meant how obvious is it that I just got laid?”

“You look great, [Y/N],” he said with a laugh, pushing a lock of hair behind your ear.

You smiled at him, walking over towards the stairs. “You go up first, and I’ll follow you in a couple of minutes, okay?” He nodded, kissing your cheek before ascending the stairs.

After briefly checking you didn’t leave any evidence of your tryst, you exited the basement, locking the door behind you and going to return the key to where you had swiped it.

Sullivan eyed the two of you once you joined them again, asking, “What took so long?”

“There was, uh,” Sam began, glancing at you, “a lot to look through. So many books and, um, other things.”

“What he said,” you agreed, giving Sullivan a _very_ convincing look.

The two men left soon after, Sam pulling you into a dark corner to plant a passionate kiss on your lips before having the valet pull up their car. You waved them off, turning back to the house to rejoin the party.

* * *

You looked at the package on your desk, set there by your secretary most likely. There was no return address, and your name and work address were hastily scrawled on the box in messy handwriting.

_If this is a bomb, I’m going to be very upset,_ you thought, cutting through the tape sealing it closed.

When nothing started ticking, you opened the lid, pulling out an object wrapped in bubble wrap, along with an envelope. You pulled off the tape sealing the bubble wrap, unrolling it to find a beautiful jade sculpture of a dragon. Setting the carving down on your desk, you slid your finger under the seal of the envelope, pulling out a piece of lined paper. There was a short message, along with a phone number at the bottom. You grinned, reading the message.

_Told you I’d make it worth your while....  
Give me a call sometime._

_xo, Sam_

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> I love getting comments and feedback, please feel free to leave one below!
> 
>  
> 
> I also have just started a Twitter account specifically for this handle, I’m thinking about doing requests and asks, so if you’d like to give me a follow, find me @copper_wasp_ !! I will be glad to give you a follow back!


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